


Where the Heart is

by Proudmoore



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cardiophilia, F/M, Fluff, Gender Neutral, Heartbeat Kink, M/M, Other, Reader Insert, Smut, pulse kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proudmoore/pseuds/Proudmoore
Summary: A collection of one-shot drabbles about situations in which Leonard likes to feel your pulse.





	1. When he's had a bad day at work.

You glance up from your PADD as you hear to the door to your quarters slide open and closed, heralding Leonard’s return two hours later than expected.  Setting the tablet aside, you climb to your feet and move toward the doorway, taking in Leonard’s exhausted, beat-down expression.  You step toward him but he holds up a hand, gesturing you back to the couch with the other.

“Long day?”  You ask, reoccupying the skin-warm spot you’d only just vacated.

Leonard grunts in response as he crosses the room, dropping heavily onto the couch beside you.  You give him a moment to get comfortable and creep in closer once he’s settled, lightly grazing your fingertips over his arm.  He seems a little bit placated by the gesture, though you know the aura of anger and heartache he’s radiating is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

A few beats of silence pass by before the sound of fabric rasping on fabric alerts you to Leonard’s shifting and you feel his fingertips come to rest on your arm in turn.  You know immediately what it is he’s after and you wordlessly oblige him.  Turning your hand over, you let his seeking fingers find your wrist and rest there, counting the gentle reverberations of the pulse there against his skin.

His touch is firm but gentle, desperate and insistent.  You can tell just by the way he’s holding on to you that he’s lost someone and you resist the urge to lunge forward and throw your arms around him.  You know that all he needs right now is to feel the life force flowing through your veins and to embrace your vitality.

A glance over at him shows him sitting stock-still with his eyes closed, focused on nothing but the beat of your heart.  He stays like that for several long minutes and you find yourself being lulled into a deeper state of relaxation by the rhythm of your own slow, steady pulse against his fingertips.  When he finally pulls away and you know he’s ready to talk you quickly shake off the somnolence and move in closer to him, curling in against his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

“He was so young,” Leonard says heavily.  “He didn’t know how to ask for help.”

You can hear the tears threatening in the thickness of his speech and you glance up at him, resting your palm on his chest, right over his own steady heartbeat.

“Tell me about it,” you urge softly, settling in to listen for as long as he needs.


	2. When he needs to know you're okay.

You emerge from the bathroom with your skin hot and glowing after a long, desperately needed shower.  Your eyes are immediately drawn to Leonard’s similarly nude form where he’s sitting perched on the edge of your shared bed, head in his hands.  You slowly wander closer, making just enough noise to alert him to your presence without spooking him.  He lifts his head to look at you.

“Come here,” he orders softly, shifting to make room for you.

You comply wordlessly, stepping closer and straddling his lap, wrapping your legs around his midsection so you’re sitting in his lap.  Your breasts brush against his chest as he wraps an arm around you to pull you closer and you readily press into him.  Tilting your head, you nuzzle into his neck, inhaling deeply and breathing in his scent as his hand strokes up and down along your spine.

“I thought I was going to lose you out there, sugar,” Leonard murmurs into your hair.  “I have half a mind never to let you out of my sight again.”

You smile against his skin, brushing your lips over his collarbone, peppering his neck with soft kisses.  You feel his free hand slip in between your bodies, his palm flat against your rib cage as it moves up slowly.  He pauses with his hand just below your left breast, pressing firmly over your heartbeat.

“I’m fine, Len,” you murmur softly, slipping one hand from around him to rest atop the one over your heart.  “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.  Just close your eyes and feel my heartbeat.  I’m okay.”

Leonard takes a slow, steadying breath and does as you say, shutting his eyes and pressing a bit more firmly against your rib cage.  You can feel the soft reverberation of your heart against his palm and you gently stroke the back of his hand in time with the slow, steady rhythm.

“Feel that?”  You whisper. 

Leonard nods and you feel some of the tension leave his body as he focuses on your heartbeat.  After several minutes of silence and stillness, he finally opens his eyes to look at you and he shifts you in his lap, rolling you onto the bed beside him and reclining with you.  You settle in comfortably and watch Leonard as he moves so he’s resting his head on your chest, his ear pressed right over your heart.  Reaching up, you gently stroke your fingertips over the taut, corded muscles in his neck and you can tell he’s resisting putting the full weight of his head on you.

“Relax,” you encourage, carding your fingers through his hair, smiling as you feel his full weight come to rest on you.

You’re not sure how long the two of you lie like that afterward, but the passing of time becomes irrelevant as you feel the last of the anxiety drain from Leonard’s body.  You tip your head down and press a soft kiss into his hair with a smile, content to let him listen to your heartbeat for as long as he needs.


	3. When you're watching a scary movie.

You watch the holoscreen intently, your fingers aching from how hard you’ve got them fisted in the blanket in your lap as the tension mounts in the movie you’re watching.  An eerie silence hangs in the air as the footage rolls and you’re being driven to the brink of madness by the suspense.  A small noise as an object on the screen falls to the floor makes you jump, and the sound of footsteps with no apparent source makes the hairs on your neck prickle.

“Whose idea was it to pick this movie?”  You mutter under your breath.

Next to you, Leonard barks out a laugh.

“Yours,” he replies.  “You just couldn’t resist when Chekov told you Paranormal Activity would scare the daylights out of you.”

You grumble wordlessly at him, pulling the blanket a little closer.  Even as the film turns to a daytime scene again, cutting back the tension, the sudden touch of Leonard’s hand at your wrist spooks you enough that you yelp, startled.  You whip your head around to look at him, narrowing your eyes at his smiling expression.  You can tell by the familiar way his fingertips press into your skin that he’s measuring your pulse and you feel your cheeks flame as you realize he’s about to find out just how spooked you really are.

“Wow, sugar,” Leonard says with a chuckle.  “Your heart’s racing a mile a minute.”

You attempt to tug your hand out of his grasp but he holds fast.  You give up after a few attempts, huffing indignantly.  As you let your arm go limp, you feel Leonard’s fingertips start to gently stroke the skin overlying your pulse point.  Before long you find some of the tension leaving your shoulders and you feel your heart rate slowing a little beneath his touch.  The movie rolls over into a nighttime scene once more.

“Don’t worry, darlin’,” Leonard murmurs, leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple.  “I’ll keep you safe.”

You smile a little, leaning over and pressing yourself into his side as his fingers continue to stroke your wrist in a slow, reassuring manner.  You return your attention to the screen with renewed resolve, resting easy knowing that you’re well protected from anything that might go bump in the night.


	4. When he's had a nightmare.

You barely even twitch when Leonard lurches on the bed next to you, sitting bolt upright straight out of a deep, restless sleep.  A fine sheen of perspiration shimmers on his skin and his ragged, labored breathing breaks the otherwise silence in your shared quarters.  He rubs a tired, shaky hand over his face, carding his fingers through his hair and leaving it sticking up at odd angles.  The darkness pressing in all around him is claustrophobic and  his heart pounds harder at its insistence.

Leonard blinks to keep the terrible, haunting echoes of his nightmare at bay as they play like movie scenes on the canvas of blackness all around him.  As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he glances over at your sleeping form and sighs, his shoulders drooping as the acuity of his fear begins to drop off a little.  Your slow, steady breathing serves as an anchor for him and he starts to come down, letting himself drop back against his pillow once more.

Shifting onto his side, Leonard watches you sleep for a little while.  Gazing at you drives his need to touch you and though he doesn’t want to disturb your sleep he reaches out for you anyway.  His hand finds yours under the covers almost by instinct and his fingers wrap around your wrist, deftly locating your pulse point.

At first you slumber on, but eventually his touch rouses you.  Your first instinct is to attempt to free your hand as confusion clouds your judgment in the waking warmth of your fading dream and you feel the touch at your wrist disappear.  You frown as you feel Leonard shift a little and you slowly blink your eyes open, bringing his silhouette into focus.  It takes you a moment to realize what he’d been doing, but as soon as you do you shuffle closer to him, reaching your hand out toward him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur sleepily.  “You can keep doing it.”

Your eyes flutter closed again as sleep pulls at you once more, but you don’t miss the return of Leonard’s fingers or the contented sigh he gives before it claims you.  What you do miss is how the feeling of your pulse under his fingertips draws the remaining tension out of his body and slowly lulls him back into a deeper, more restful sleep.  With your heartbeat there to ground him, the demons that had haunted him in his last dream are long gone, replaced by a warmth and comfort that usher him into the early morning by your side.


	5. When he's feeling old-fashioned.

You count the rivets in the ceiling overhead as you lie flat on  your back on a bio bed with Leonard waving a tricorder over you.  Your quarterly physicals are always uneventful and it’s all you can do to pass the time as he works to ensure you’re fit and healthy to continue the five-year mission unchallenged.  You tear your gaze away from the ceiling as he steps away from you a moment later, following him a short distance across the room.

“So what’s the prognosis, doc?”  You ask.  “Am I gonna live?”

“That depends,” Leonard muses, glancing over his shoulder at you as he prepares a hypo.  “How good are you with needles?”

You roll your eyes at him and pointedly tip your head up, exposing your neck for the inevitable booster shot you’re about to receive.  Watching Leonard return to your side with the hypospray in hand, you stick to your guns and prepare for the sting, though it doesn’t come.  Instead, Leonard sets the hypospray down beside you and reaches for your arm.  His fingers wrap around your wrist and you know instantaneously that he’s checking your pulse.

“Tricorder failing you?”  You query with a wry smile.

Leonard chuckles softly, meeting your gaze briefly as he continues his count.

“The tricorder told me all I need to know,” he assures you.  “But you’re not just any old patient and I want the best for my baby, so now hush up and let the doctor work.”

Your expression softens at his words and you can’t help but smile, keeping relaxed for him.  You know how important it is for him to know that you’re okay and if feeling your pulse is part of the ritualism that keeps him reassured then you’re happy to oblige him.  Besides, you can’t say you don’t enjoy his ministrations; they make you feel precious and cared for.

You miss his touch immediately when he lets go of your wrist a moment later and you wrinkle your nose in displeasure as he holds the hypo aloft, clearly satisfied with your pulse rate.

“Ready?”  He asks.

You roll your eyes and expose your neck once again.

“If you must.”


	6. When you're out in the field.

“In here!”

The words register somewhere in the back of your mind, distant though they sound at first, and you slowly blink your eyes open.  Ice crystals have formed on your eyelashes and it’s a difficult task, but you manage it just in time to follow the sound of footsteps crunching in the frost all around you up to a blessedly familiar form.

“Len,” you breathe, your jaw aching from how hard your teeth have been chattering.

“I’m here, darlin’,” he assures you, dropping to his knees at your side, his breath fogging the air.

You attempt to shift out of the pile of emergency blankets and spare survival suits you’ve burrowed into in an attempt to keep from freezing to death while awaiting rescue, but your frozen, stiff joints protest.  Agony sings through each of your limbs.

“Not so fast,” Leonard says over the din of more pairs of boots crunching into your shredded, downed shuttle.  “Let us get you out of here.”

“I’m f-fine,” you stutter, shivers still wracking your body.

“I’ll be the judge of that, sweetheart,” Leonard murmurs.

Steeling yourself as he discusses moving you out of the shuttle with a security officer, you manage to get one of your hands out from beneath your layers of insulation.  Leonard notices your movement immediately and glances up to meet your gaze again.

“Go on,” you croak.  “See for yourself.”

He smiles softly through his concern and pulls off one of his gloves, reaching for your hand.  His fingers wrap around your wrist, deftly settling over your radial artery.  You hiss quietly at the burning contrast of his heated skin against yours, closing your eyes and letting yourself get lost in his ministrations as he feels your pulse, reassuring the both of you.

His grip on your wrist lingers for a long moment, making you feel cared for and him feel certain of your safety.  You know he could just as easily be scanning you with a tricorder, but you also know he’s comforted by the contact.  You are, too, and so you revel in it for as long as it lasts.  He doesn’t let go until a beckoning shout from outside the shuttle informs him that the violent snow storm overhead is about to pick up again. 

“What’s the prognosis, doc?”  You ask as Leonard and one of his medics extricate you from your makeshift nest.

“Favorable,” he replies with a wink.  “Now you just take it easy and let us do all the hard work.”

You smile weakly and nod, your eyes fluttering closed as Leonard scoops you into his arms.  Even through your shared layers of clothing the heat of his body starts to warm you up almost immediately and you allow yourself to relax, knowing that no matter what happens next, Leonard is there to protect you.


	7. When you're feeling playful.

“I’m pretty sure I’m dead.”

Leonard glances up from his PADD where he’s seated in the armchair across the room and levels his gaze on you.

“What makes you say that?”  He asks, quirking an eyebrow.

You nod your head in the general direction of your hands.  You have them raised above you as you lie on your back, the fingers of one hand pressing into the opposite wrist, feeling around for your pulse.

“I don’t have a heartbeat,” you reply.

Leonard rolls his eyes.

“You’re pretty animated for a dead person,” he quips.

You make a noise of feigned displeasure at him, letting go of your own arm and waving your wrist in his general direction.

“And you’re pretty unconcerned for a doctor-slash-significant other,” you tease.

Leonard’s gaze is unwavering and a few beats of silence pass by as he stares at you.  After a moment or two, he rolls his eyes and sets his PADD down, rising to his feet and crossing the room.  He perches on the coffee table beside where you’re laid out on the couch and reaches for the wrist you’re still holding up.  His long, skilled fingers encircle it easily and his fingertips settle in a familiar spot.  You can feel your pulse reverberating against them, though less strongly than usual.

“Definitely not dead,” Leonard concludes after a few more seconds of silence.  “Your pulse is strong and steady, sweetheart.”

“Fine, be a show off, then,” you say with a mock huff of indignation, grinning mischievously.

“Next time you might save yourself the worry if you take a moment to check your pulse the right way,” Leonard says with a laugh.

“Then maybe you should show me this right way of yours,” you murmur.

Leonard mirrors your grin and lets his grip slip from around your wrist, instead offering you a hand up.  You take it and allow him to pull you into a sitting position, watching as he reaches for your wrist again, fingers going right back to where they were before.

“Use two or three fingers about an inch below the base of your thumb and press firmly,” Leonard explains.  “And it works a whole lot better when your arm is below the level of your heart.”

He winks at you and your heart skips a beat.  It doesn’t go unnoticed if the knowing look in his eyes is anything to go by.  Considering his advice, you shrug and smile shyly, feeling your face heat.

“I know,” you admit.  “I just wanted an excuse for you to feel my pulse.  I like it when you do it.”

Leonard smile broadly, squeezing your wrist gently and leaning in to brush his lips against yours, his fingers never leaving their place.

“If you want me to do it, all you have to do is ask.”


	8. When you're having trouble sleeping.

“Are you still awake?”

You sigh deeply as Leonard’s voice fills the night around you, a halo of light from the space outside of your shared bedroom illuminating his form.  Rolling onto your back, you turn your head to look at him, squinting at the brightness in the seconds before he closes the door, plunging you back into blissful darkness.

“Unfortunately,” you reply.

You hear the shuffle of his feet against the thinly carpeted flooring and the ensuing clunking of his boots as they come off.  The rustling of fabric follows before the whisper of little plastic wheels as he slides the wardrobe open and closed again.  The sounds are soft, but they’re distracting enough to fuel your anxiety.

“I have to be up in four hours,” you deadpan.  “This day is going to suck.”

The weight on the bed shifts as Leonard crawls in beside you and you shiver as the cool room air licks at your briefly exposed skin when he pulls the blanket back to join you beneath it.  You feel the shape of his presence next to you in the heat that radiates off of him even before he’s made contact and so the gentle touch at your wrist comes as no surprise.

“It’s going to be fine, sugar,” Leonard assures you quietly.  “Just relax and close your eyes.”

His fingers begin to stroke gently over your pulse point, slowly in stark contrast to the much quicker fluttering of your heartbeat beneath his touch.  You follow his directions, letting your eyelids droop and doing your best to let the tension out of your muscles with the help of his soft touch.

“I’m not even sleepy,” you mumble.

Leonard shushes you quietly, his fingers keeping up their rhythm, occasionally pausing to check your heart rate.  You don’t feel much different as the minutes tick by, but Leonard smiles softly as he feels your pulse rate slowing down with his ministrations. 

You don’t fight it as sleep starts to claim you at last, still feeling a little anxious about how little of it you’re going to get but feeling reassured by Leonard’s touch.  He continues tending to you lovingly until he hears your breathing even out.  He pauses his stroking, fingers settling over your heartbeat, taking in its slow, steady rhythm.  He stays like that until you start to snore softly before finally shifting to lie down at your side.  Turning over to face you, he gently wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you closer without disturbing your slumber.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”


	9. When you get startled.

You hum softly to yourself as you reach into the shipping container on the floor at your feet and pull out another four pouches of braided copper conduits.  You tap your foot along to the beat as you straighten and reach into an overhead compartment, stowing them away for future use.  It’s mindless, menial work, but you hardly mind after all of the installations you’ve been helping with around the ship lately; it’s a nice change of pace.

You’re distracted enough by the work that you don’t hear the sound of boots on the deck plating behind you.  You’re too engrossed in organizing all of the new supplies that you’re unaware of another presence in the compartment with you until you feel a hand land on your shoulder and hear a voice next to your ear.  The touch and noise startle you badly enough that you yelp and drop the package you’re holding, spinning around to face whoever has snuck up on you.

“Holy shit, Len!”  You say breathlessly as your gaze lands on him.  “You scared me half to death!”

Leonard flashes you a small, sheepish smile, his expression apologetic.

“Sorry, sugar,” he murmurs softly.  “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“I damn near had a heart attack,” you huff.

Leonard chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m sure you’re in no such danger,” he teases.

“Yeah?”  You ask, raising an eyebrow.  “You should feel what my heart’s doing right now.”

Without pause, you reach out and grab him by the sleeve, raising his arm to your chest and pressing his palm over your heart.  You can feel it racing against his touch and you watch his expression as you press his hand down more firmly with both of your own.  There’s no mistaking that he can feel how fast your heart rate is as his expression changes to one of rapt attention and amusement.

“Still think I’m not about to have a heart attack?”  You ask pointedly.

Leonard appears to consider your words for a moment or two.

“I’m sure it’s no big deal,” he replies, slipping his hand out from under yours and up to your neck, pressing his fingers in to the pulse point there.  “But perhaps it would be best to take you back to your quarters and monitor you for a while.”

“I have work to do,” you mutter lamely, gesturing to the boxes at your feet.

“I’ll make sure Scotty knows you’re being excused from your duties,” Leonard says lightly, leaning in close, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Your heart rate responds in kind, jumping a little in reaction to his affections.  You moan softly against his lips.

“Well, if you insist,” you whisper.

“I do, darlin’,” Leonard replies, smiling into the kiss, his fingers still at your throat.  “I really do.”


	10. When you have a fainting spell.

Your vision starts to soften around your edges and before you can so much as make a noise of warning, you feel your knees buckle as the room starts to spin all around you.  A pair of arms wraps around you and you collide with another body just before consciousness abandons you entirely.

When you awaken a minute or two later, you’re lying on one of the sofas in the officers’ lounge, your feet propped up on a spare cushion.  You listen for the concerned murmurs you often find yourself surrounded by when you faint in public, but the room is silent save for a soft breathing at your side.  Warm fingers are pressed to the pulse point at your neck.

“Welcome back, sugar,” Leonard murmurs.  “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” you say thickly.  “No worse for wear.”

You blink your eyes open slowly, glancing around the room, feeling relieved to find it empty; trust Leonard to realize you’d rather not wake up to an audience.  His concerned face swims into view as your vision clears and you shake your head a little to dislodge his hand from your neck.  He hesitates a little before pulling away.

“Your pulse is good,” he comments.  “I’d like to take you down to medical just to make sure you’re alright, but I know you’re not having any of it.”

“Damn right,” you say firmly.  “If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you monitor me back in our quarters.  If you’re  _really_  good, I won’t even put up a fuss.”

Leonard rolls his eyes, holding out a hand to help you up.  You take it gratefully and allow him to support you as you sit, feeling the room spin just a little bit before settling back to normal.

“I don’t know if you could handle me monitoring you,” Leonard teases playfully with a wink and a cheeky grin.  “You swooned at the mere sight of me…”

You swat at him as you swing your legs over the edge of the couch only to have him grab your arm before you can make contact.  His fingertips slip along your forearm and come to rest at your wrist as you set your arm down.  You can feel the undercurrent of his worry beneath the lighthearted surface.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty or I might have been offended,” you tease in return, your tone softening.  “I’m going to be fine, Len.”

Leonard’s fingers press into your pulse point a little more firmly in a gesture meant to reassure the both of you and he smiles softly as he leans in to press a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah, you are,” he affirms, his tone leaving it impossible not to feel well cared for.


	11. When he's feeling affectionate.

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle into Leonard’s neck, inhaling his scent and letting the heat from his body envelop you.  He’s wonderfully warm, solid, and safe, and you’re feeling particularly clingy.  It seems like he is, too, if the way he wraps his arms all the way around you to hold you close is anything to go by.

You allow him to shift you around a bit so that you’re sitting beside him rather than in his lap.  One arm stays tight around your waist while the other hand travels to your neck.  His seeking fingertips find your pulse point and press into your skin, firmly but gently.  Your pulse reverberates lightly against his fingers.

The two of you sit there in silence in a sort of suspended animation for a while, you taking comfort in his embrace, him finding solace in your heartbeat.  When he finally starts to pull away after a while, you whine softly, missing his touch immediately.

“Lie down, sugar,” he instructs softly.

He stands up and moves away from the bed for a moment, his back to you as you shuffle around and make yourself comfortable.  Your bare skin begins to cool quickly in the ambient air but thankfully Leonard doesn’t leave you alone for too long.  He returns moments later with his stethoscope in hand.

Moving to sit beside you, he lets the stethoscope unravel from his grasp and inserts the ear tips, holding the chest piece briefly against his palm to warm it.  You watch him as he leans closer, resting one palm just beside your head for stability as he presses the stethoscope to your chest, just below your left breast.  Though it’s already skin-warm, you shiver at the feel of it nevertheless.

“I love the sound of your heartbeat,” Leonard murmurs after a few moments of silence and listening.  “I’m the luckiest man in the world, getting to hear it like this.”

You smile softly, reaching up to brush your fingertips over his cheek, stroking him as he meets your gaze.  You trail your hand lower until you can press it to his own chest, his heart fluttering against your palm.  The wellspring of love and affection you feel for him as the two of you share in the intimacy of the moment is overwhelming and your heart starts to race a little faster as your feelings wash over you.

“I love you, Len,” you say quietly.

“I love you, too, darlin’.”


	12. When you're in the bedroom. (NSFW)

Your chest heaves in ragged, discordant waves as you struggle to breathe, your arousal choking you.  Leonard’s tongue is working a wicked sort of magic against your clit and starbursts explode behind your eyelids as your orgasm looms.  You keen wordlessly as you buck against his hold, needing him faster, harder. **  
**

“Len, I’m going to cum,” you breathe.  “I’m so close.”

You feel him smile against your folds as he continues his ministrations.  The hand he has splayed on the inside of your right thigh creeps lower, closer to where his mouth is working, and you squirm as you feel his fingers press into the crook of your thigh.  You wonder for a moment just what he’s doing, but quickly realize he’s feeling your pulse as you feel it rebounding against his fingertips.

“Fuck,” you breathe, having been previously unaware it was even possible to feel a pulse there.

“I’ve got you all worked up, don’t I, sugar?”  Leonard murmurs against your pussy.  “I can feel your heart racing away for me.”

You make a strangled noise of ecstasy as his teeth drag over your sensitive clit, pushing you over the edge.  Two fingers from his other hand find their way inside of you and you clench around them as your climax crests.  You lose track of the reverberations of your pulse against his fingertips as you writhe beneath him, your orgasm robbing you of all conscious thought and control.

“Good girl,” Leonard purrs.  “You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.”

You start to come down from the high a few moments later, your bucking weakening and dying out completely after a short while.  Leonard’s fingertips are still at the crook of your thigh as he pulls away, but his hand quickly slips up higher, over your belly and chest, winding up at your neck.  The pressure is almost too much even there, so far removed from your core, and you moan softly as he moves to settle beside you.  The two of you lie in silence as your breathing evens out and your heartbeat slows beneath his touch.

“I’ve never seen you cum so hard before,” Leonard murmurs softly, moving in closer and pressing a kiss to your temple.  “I think I even felt your heart skip a few beats.”

You feel it skip again at the mere mention of your reaction to his tongue on your clit and you feel heat flood your face as your mind immediately jumps to all of the other ways he could get a rise out of you.  Your body’s reaction isn’t lost on Leonard, whose lips curl into a coy smile.

“Looks like that arrhythmia might warrant some more looking into…”


	13. When you're feeling insecure.

You can’t tear your gaze away from the bathroom mirror, your eyes focusing on the scar running down the middle of your sternum. It’s bumpy and discolored, in stark contrast to the rest of your skin. Sighing, you pull your robe closed across your chest, tying it around your waist. Even then, you can still see the scar peeking out above the garment’s neckline; a reminder of the time that you nearly lost your life to a penetrating chest wound in the heat of battle.

Leonard’s reflection appears beside yours and his hand comes to rest on your shoulder. He leans in to press a kiss to your cheek.

“What’s on your mind, sugar?” He asks softly.

You close your eyes, leaning toward him, pressing yourself into his embrace as his arms wind around you.

“I hate this scar.”

Leonard reaches up, pulling the two halves of your robe apart a little bit. He runs his fingers over the scar, caressing it gently, touching you with reverence. His touch trails down past the fabric, to the very bottom of the scar, then back up again. Your heart flutters at the sensation.

“Well I love it,” Leonard murmurs. “It’s a part of you.”

His hand comes to rest on your upper arm, slowly slipping down until his fingers reach your wrist. His fingertips locate your radial artery with practiced ease and press down, your pulse reverberating against his touch. You close your eyes, leaning into him, resting your head back on his shoulder as he braces you, his grip on your wrist never wavering.

“Feel that?” He asks softly. “You’ve got a steady pulse. That scar is a testament to your strong heart; a heart that’s going to beat for a long time to come because of the early intervention in the operating room. Without that scar, we wouldn’t be standing here together.”

His grip loosens and he raises his arm, parting the two halves of your robe again so he can slip his hand beneath one side. He presses his palm to your chest, just beneath your left pec, and you can feel your heartbeat against his hand. He’s silent for a long moment, giving both of you a chance to revel in the sensation.

“I love your scar because it means that I get to do this,” he says. “I get to feel your heart beating for me, reminding me of how lucky I am to have you.”

You smile a little at his words, reaching up to press your hand over his, keeping him in place. You’re beyond grateful at the sentiment, and at the unconditional love and acceptance that he’s shown you from the very start, and the amount of love you feel for him in return almost makes your heart ache.

“Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes and reaching up with your free hand to stroke his cheek over your shoulder.

He turns his head, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“I love you, sugar.”


	14. When you're standing at the altar.

“Come in.”

You turn around as the door to your dressing room opens in the wake of a knock, revealing your husband-to-be. He looks handsome, dressed to the nines in a tuxedo. He walks in, closing the door behind him as you smile demurely and avert your gaze.

“You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding, you know,” you murmur softly. “It’s bad luck.”

Leonard steps up to you, reaching out to take your hands, his gaze lingering on your face. You can feel him watching you and you look up eventually, smiling.

“I just wanted to make sure you still want this,” he says quietly. “Still want me.”

Your heart breaks at his tone and an anger at his ex wife, at the heartache and anxiety she caused him, boils inside of you. You grip his hands tightly, nodding, your expression resolute. He squeezes back briefly before shifting his grip, his fingertips coming to rest on your pulse points. Your heart races beneath his touch, excitement and just the smallest bit of nervousness coursing through you.

“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” you promise. “I can’t wait to say yes.”

Leonard smiles, relieved, and leans in to kiss you. Before he can, you wrest one of your hands free from his grasp and reach up to cover his mouth, grinning.

“Save it for the ceremony,” you tease.

Leonard rolls his eyes good-naturedly but nods, pulling back. He holds onto your other wrist for just a few seconds longer, drawing strength and courage from the feeling of your heartbeat. Reassured, he finally pulls away all together, taking his leave as you get ready for your walk down the aisle.

The ceremony is everything you’ve ever imagined. The faces of your friends and family in the audience smile as you walk down the aisle, and Len is watching you from the front of the room like he’s just seen an angel. You can feel heat rise in your cheeks and tears shining in your eyes: you never thought you would get this lucky in love.

Leonard’s hands are warm as they clasp around yours when you join him at the altar. His gaze doesn’t stray from your face the entire time Scotty is officiating. As the formalities go on, Leonard’s grip on your hands shifts ever so slightly. He extends his fingers, palms up, and brushes his fingertips over your pulse points again with your palms touching his. 

Your pulse is strong and steady this time, all fear and nervousness having abandoned you the moment you looked into Leonard’s eyes. You love him so deeply that the thought of forever at his side is a comfort and a joy. As you hold his gaze, you can tell he feels it, too, and your pulse continues beating steadily beneath his touch as Scotty asks the fateful question. With a smile and the twinkling of a promise in your eye, you answer.

“I do.”


	15. When he needs reassurance.

You pause in front of the door to your quarters, Leonard’s fingers encircling your wrist and stalling your departure. You can feel your pulse reverberating against his touch the same way you have every morning since Jim’s fateful resurrection. You’ve watched Leonard live through nightmares, flashbacks, and crying spells, and you know that being able to feel your pulse reassures him that you’re there, you’re okay, and that you’ll be coming home to him at the end of the day.

Feeling unusually shy as he holds on, you avert your gaze. You feel your cheeks heat as you become acutely aware of a steady increase in your heart rate and your reaction isn’t lost on Leonard. You can feel his gaze on you and he reaches up to gently touch your cheek, encouraging you to turn your head back to look at him once more. You hesitate a moment but eventually comply, meeting his gaze. He flashes you a small smile.

“Am I making you nervous, darlin’?”

“Nervous that I’m going to be late for work, yeah,” you reply teasingly.

He inches closer, keeping his grip on your wrist firmly in place as he dips his head to kiss you. Your eyes flutter closed automatically and you sigh contentedly as your lips meet his. The kiss is chaste but lingering and you relax into him, your pulse still fluttering away beneath his fingertips.

When he finally breaks the kiss you make a soft noise of longing, missing the contact already. You open your eyes to Leonard’s smiling face still mere inches from your own and you nuzzle your face into his palm as his thumb strokes your cheek.

“I need to get going,” you say reluctantly.

“I can excuse you from your duties for a day,” Leonard says softly, his rich baritone sending a shiver down your spine.

“That would be unethical,” you argue halfheartedly.

“No one would know.”

You roll your eyes and lean in to press one more quick kiss to his lips before squirming your way out of his grasp, immediately missing the warmth of his fingers around your wrist. You back up, pausing a moment in the doorway.

“We can continue this when I get back,” you say with a coy smile.

“I’m counting on it, sugar.”


End file.
